


Little Ceremonies

by OMGitsgreen



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Beauregard Lionett Has Issues, Beauregard Lionett is a Mess, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Complicated Relationships, F/F, Gen, Mutual Pining, Requited Unrequited Love, and she working through that as best she can, they all got the feelings but don't know where to start
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25232233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OMGitsgreen/pseuds/OMGitsgreen
Summary: And then, just as quickly, she was jolted away from the depths of her sleep. Divine light pierced the darkness that had settled quiet and peaceful over her like the waves from the ocean lapping at her toes. She saved me, Beau thought literally breathless, she-"Beau!" Fjord gasped. Beau desperately tried not to give in to her disappointment. And then immediately she resisted the urge to slap herself because no, she shouldn’t be thinking it. It wasn’t any of those things and she shouldn’t be thinking that way.In the aftermath of another fight to add to the list of spectacularly bad things in her life recently, Beauregard struggles with her conflicting feelings. Though she isn't sure what to do with the answer she receives.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 22
Kudos: 164





	Little Ceremonies

**Author's Note:**

> So I have a lot of feelings about Beau, and she has feelings too that she needs to work through. Honestly this fic just came from my desire to shake this girl and force her to talk about her issues with SOMEONE, literally anyone would do. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Before Beau almost fucking  _ died _ she realized she didn't know what TJ's favorite color was. 

They had gotten attacked by some asshole bandits, which wouldn’t have been too big a deal if they also hadn’t had some wolves with them too. One of them was buddy buddy with animals Beau guessed. Things were going rough anyways, and Beau almost wasn’t surprised when she was full-body slammed by an orc and smashed her head on something hard. Another hit and she was out. So long, farewell, no one home, lights completely off unconscious. It sort of sucked, but it wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before. This time felt different for some stupid reason having to do with her brother. 

It was a stupid fucking last thought before she went unconscious, but you can't help what springs to your mind in your last moments of consciousness. And that was it. She saw TJ's face in her mind as she came crashing down, as her vision wobbled and went grey at the edges like she was tripping balls again or it was being eaten in a haze of ash. She realized she didn't know TJ's favorite color. And then there was nothing for a long moment. It wasn't unlike falling asleep in the way that there was  _ nothing _ . Most nights Beau was so exhausted that she didn’t have time for dreams. (The other times she dreamed of impossible things she could never admit but wanted so bad she wished she could break open her own skull to inspect and commit them to memory. But she wouldn’t admit those ever.)

And then, just as quickly, she was jolted away from the depths of her sleep. Divine light pierced the darkness that had settled quiet and peaceful over her like the waves from the ocean lapping at her toes. She saved me, Beau thought literally breathless, she-

"Beau!" Fjord gasped. Beau desperately tried not to give in to her disappointment. And then immediately she resisted the urge to slap herself because no, she shouldn’t be thinking it. It wasn’t any of those things and she shouldn’t be thinking that way. 

“Oh Beau!” Jester cried as she rushed over. Her hands were first-snow cold against Beau’s suddenly feverish skin as Fjord helped to settle Beau more firmly against Jester. “Oh I’m so sorry, I don’t have...I only have Healing Word prepared and…!” 

Beau felt another jolt of the divine spread through her at the brush of her fingers that fluttered like snowflakes. They felt good...Jester felt good. She was soft and even though she was washed with rain water and gore, somehow, her arms felt safe. Beau wanted to feel more. She wanted to sag against Jester, to melt into her arms and never leave-

“It’s okay,” Beau managed to croak, her ribs still didn’t feel great by any means. It was more like when Dairon had first knocked the shit out of her with her staff. But she was feeling far less...almost dead so it was a marked improvement at any rate. She could just file this away into the same place that she had put all her recent horrible traumatic encounters and everything would be fine. “Just...it’s alright, Jessie. I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay, you look like shit!” Jester said, sounding half angry and half breathlessly relieved. It just made everything hurt even more somehow, though Beau didn’t know how that was fucking possible because she felt like complete shit. 

“Sorry, I’m fresh out of healing,” Caduceus apologized, hauling a ghostly pale looking Caleb with both Yasha and Nott’s help. Caleb swayed in their arms, looking like a bloodless ghost that haunted the halls in a shitty novel that Jester might read them all. Beau hoped she didn’t look as bad as Caleb, though she didn’t have much hope. 

“I’ll be alright,” Beau promised, gritting her teeth and forcing her legs up. Pain was a constant bedfellow. Usually she liked pain, it helped her feel alive and grounded, but this was a pain that was ripping deeper within her at places that she was refusing to face. Not now, Beau ordered herself. You can fall apart later. Not now-!

“Beau no-”

“I’ve got it!” Beau snapped at Jester, desperate to get out of her grasp. She was crawling out of her fucking skin. Jester flinched, and Beau felt her blood curdling in her veins because why? Why had she done this? Why couldn’t she just be good to those she loved instead of ruining it every time? 

“Okay,” Jester said, quickly rearranging her face so that the hurt dwelled somewhere deep where Beau couldn’t see it any more. It made Beau want to grab something with her hands and rip it apart right there and then. 

“There should be the inn a mile or two away,” Fjord said, voice even and as always the steady captain in the storm as he referred to the map. Lining up the troops, focusing them on an achievable goal. Beau could have hugged him for this gentle understanding. 

“I can help you into the cart,” Yasha offered both Caleb and Beau, her eyes dark and drawn with worry. 

“Ja, please,” Caleb asked, as Yasha better arranged him on her arm with Veth’s help. Veth kept glancing at Beau and Beau wanted to scream at her to knock it off. It wouldn’t change anything, none of this would, and in fact it was only making it worse. But Beau had always considered herself to be the worst kind of coward, so instead of saying all of that she set her jaw. 

“I’m fine,” Beau said gruffly to everyone, no one, and herself, gripping her side. “I’ll be fine.” 

As they walked along, Beau could feel Veth’s gaze digging into her skin. She pointedly ignored it. 

“I’m sorry,” Fjord murmured to Beau as they walked. He reached an arm around her to steady her, and rubbed her shoulder comfortingly as he did. Beau half wanted to punch him, and half wanted to turn her head into his shoulder and cry. 

“Why are you sorry?” Beau snapped though it felt half-hearted. She had always had a hard time arguing with Fjord, and even as wounded and skittish as she was feeling she couldn’t muster real anger at him. 

“You know why,” Fjord said as he continued to look forward and help her without saying anything. 

Beau knew why, but it didn’t make it any easier. 

* * *

“Are you mad at me?” 

They had found the inn and with little ceremony they had separated out to their rooms for the night. It was the usual arrangement, but Beau felt anything but normal. 

She was thinking about TJ again, thinking about her feelings that were all over the place, thinking about the stupid pain in her side that refused to just dim enough for her to sleep. Eventually all of those things had curled together until any outside stimulus had her startled half out of her skin. 

Jester’s voice was quiet in the darkness of their room. It stabbed into Beau like that shitty dagger the bandit had stuck into her not so many hours prior. Beau was wide awake now, curled into her side. Her breath was drawn so tightly that she was afraid that something inside of her would snap. And maybe it should. Maybe things would be better if they did. Maybe she wouldn’t have to deal with Fjord’s quiet concern and Cad’s long looks, and the quick glancing gazes that Veth peppered against her skin like freezing rain. It was because everyone knew the secrets that Beau was so terrible at keeping...everyone except the girl who could miss that point but tell she wasn’t asleep from the irregularities of her breath in a dark room. It would be hilarious, if it wasn’t so fucking tragic. 

“ ‘m not mad,” Beau said, hoping her voice sounded sleepy and that was enough to discourage this conversation. Beau could hear Jester shifting again in the darkness, and new that hope was a dream to be dashed on the rocks with the coming tide. 

“If I did something wrong…” 

“You didn’t, Jessie,” Beau said, finally rolling over. She didn’t have her goggles on and so she could barely see in the darkness, but the lump she assumed was Jester moved in tandem with her. Beau had spent enough time gazing at her to know the curve of her horns...her artist’s hands...the freckles that dusted her skin and nose. Beau colored in the lines like she was a child, and didn’t need her sight to tell her what she would see. “I was just upset at having been stabbed. It hurt. And it was lame.” 

“It was a little lame,” Jester said, a half-hearted laugh in her throat, a pout forming on her mouth. 

“Not just a little,” Beau said, self-depreciation a comfortable skin to slip into. This was charted waters, this was safe with Jester. This is what she wanted, she told her errant heart. She wanted her heart and her friendship to be safe. If it was safe, there would be nothing precious to lose. Beau didn’t think she would be able to stand that. 

“A lot a bit then,” Jester corrected. “But I am sorry anyways I...I’ll try to be a better cleric I swear.” 

“You are already the greatest cleric,” Beau promised her. “After all, there aren’t many clerics who make their own gods.”

“The Traveler and I are cool like that,” Jester said and Beau could hear the smile on her voice. She could see it in her mind’s eyes, the way it drew across her face and just brightened her and everything around her. She was precious and sacred and Beau was none of those things.  _ Not for me _ , a part of Beau cried with hot, childish tears. _ Not for me, never for me. Why would she ever want me _ ?  _ She is a vessel for a power greater than I can understand...why would she ever want someone who uses all their strength to simply not fall apart _ ?

“Yeah, you guys are,” Beau said as she drew in her strength to sit up despite the way her muscles and bones protested. “I’m gonna go for a quick walk. I’ll be back.” 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Jester asked her, sitting up suddenly. 

“No,” Beau said, doing her best to smile for Jester. After all, only one of them could really see in the dark. “I’ll be back.” 

“Alright...if you are sure,” Jester said, not sound happy about this arrangement. Just that was enough to almost send Beau back, but she didn’t. She steeled herself and moved forward instead. Beau fumbled for the door, groping for the knob in the darkness. She opened it and was out in the dark, empty hall. She almost made it all the way down the hall when the pain in her side forced her to stop. She crumbled against the wall, her eyes burning with tears that she refused to shed. She smacked her hand against the wall as she slid down, the dull ache doing nothing to distract her from the pain in her chest. No one else was there...it was far too late for anyone to be wandering the halls anyways, and Beau had never been more grateful to anything in her whole life. 

_ Make me understand _ , her mother had once whispered to her.  _ Why can you not just behave? It will be so much easier _ , was what her mother hadn't said but it had been written all over her face. 

_ Marry a nice boy from a good family, have your dalliances quietly on the side, shit out kids because that's your job and it has worked for a million women before you and it can work for you. Why can't you just accept the things that are settled in front of you for the way they are _ , was what her father had meant when he refused to look at Tori as Beau was hauled from that jail cell that night. 

Beau felt the urge to cry again. How much more orderly...how much  _ smaller _ was she going to be forced to make her feelings? She simply couldn't force them into any more boxes to be labeled and filed away when they were pounding at her ribcage...bleeding out all over her like a fresh wound. It was bad enough that she had fallen in love for the first woman who hadn't cringed at her touch, but now  _ this _ ? Where was the fucking justice in this? She was supposed to be made of stronger stuff than this, but apparently all she had done was gilded her ribcage without accounting for the things within it.

“Beau?” Yasha’s voice was quiet and worried as she peaked out of the door of the room she was sharing with Fjord and Caduceus. Her dark hair swept out like a curtain as she did, and Beau wanted nothing more than to tuck it behind her ear. Was Yasha’s hair soft? And though those thoughts were surely not practical at this moment, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking them. “Beau...are you alright?” 

Beau startled in spite of herself. She was usually so much better than this, but that night she was scraped from the bottom of a barrel. Yasha was standing in the hallway. Her figure cut imposingly, but as soon as she saw there was no danger she almost shrunk into herself as she usually did. Her shoulders rolled in on themselves in an attempt to be smaller...less obvious, despite the fact that such a thing was impossible. Beau had the urge to gather Yasha up in her arms and...no. It was bad enough that her heart was bleeding out for Jester, she didn’t need anything else confusing her already blurry perspective. 

_ And you almost threw it all away, and you think you deserve anything? What a joke _ , a vicious part of her snapped, tearing at her already shredded insides like she had swallowed daggers.  _ You may as well just walk back to that hag in the woods and offer all of your happiness _ . 

Why couldn’t this just be a problem she punched away? It would make everything so much easier, Beau thought beyond frustrated with herself. She had more important things to worry about. She had almost died and left them behind, but she was crying over this? Pathetic. 

“My shitty cracked ribs fucking hurt,” Beau said sniffing as she angrily swiped her hand beneath her nose. Yasha looked down the hall, before settling next to Beau on the floor. Yasha held out her hand timidly, like Beau would shy away at the touch. When Beau instead settled her hand in Yasha’s they were both surprised. Beau felt Yasha’s magic move through her, hum against her skin the way that the scent of a thunderstorm carried in the wind on a summer night. This time, the pain substantially subsided, and Beau found she could breathe in deep and even hold it without her breath stuttering in her throat. Unfortunately, her breath caught on her jagged-edged sadness and she let out a half-sob half-chuckle. 

“Beau?”

“I’m sorry, Yasha,” Beau murmured and she settled her head against her knees. “It’s my fault, not yours.” 

“Being hurt is never fun,” Yasha observed, her expression smooth and revealing nothing. 

“No, being hurt fucking sucks and I hate it,” Beau said, not willing to admit she was talking about more than just her stupid ribs. From the look on Yasha’s face, she understood what she meant intimately. 

And of course Yasha did. Yasha wore her pain like a mantle of wings that spread out from her shoulder blades and cut across the sky. And she was beautiful for it. She was beautiful for how she continued to rise up and survive with such grace and fortitude, while Beau clawed and screamed and brought everyone else down with her. Beau broke the precious things in her life, while Yasha did everything she could to save them. And Yasha would understand...Beau knew she would. And the desire to spill everything was building in her throat hot and fast again. But with those feelings came others, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face any of them yet...not when Yasha’s eyes were the blue-violet of a twilight in the darkness. Their eyes met, and the moment was  _ alive _ . 

“Are you tired?” Yasha asked softly. Her voice had always been quiet and hushed, almost like the sound of the wind through the grass. But now in the quiet and the dark the tones of her voice were resonating deep in the marrow of her bones. 

“Yeah...I think I’m just tired,” Beau admitted and just like that the moment was past. Tired of this. Tired of her traitorous heart that swung like a pendulum between her desires and didn’t settle. Tired of the fact her family could still hurt her even though she was done with them. Tired of this love that would only hurt her. Tired of knowing that she wouldn’t give her love up for anything regardless. Tired of herself. Tired of everything and nothing all at once and the fact that this just kept happening. She would have hoped that something would be different this time. 

“Rest then,” Yasha said, patting her own shoulder. “You can rest here, and I’ll keep you safe.”

_ You can’t _ , Beau wanted to say as she met Yasha’s knowing eyes.  _ You shouldn’t. It’ll just hurt us all. _ There was a heart breaking there and Beau couldn’t understand it. Why? How could Yasha keep giving despite it all? Though maybe it shouldn’t be surprising, Yasha had always been able to carry her and Jester and everyone else. 

“Okay,” Beau said instead, leaning against Yasha gingerly. “Thank you, Yasha.”

“You are welcome Beau,” Yasha said quietly in return. 

And so Beau drifted off again, but this time, the darkness welcomed her warmly into its arms. 


End file.
